Captain Jack
by Miss Rigby
Summary: The further adventures of the fabulously foppish Captain Jack Sparrow, everyone's favorite pirate! Lots of action and plot twists to come so read and review!
1. Return to Tortuga

Ooh, revised first chapter!  Really only added about one new word but hey.  Thanks to Huntress for pointing out one little flaw in my plot.  Now I have a whole new plan, so yay!  Here you go, please review!

Chapter One- "Return to Tortuga"

                Everything was going great in Jack Sparrow's life.  At that moment he couldn't be happier.  His revenge on Barbossa was complete, his ship was returned to him, and he was now coming in to port in his favorite place (on land, anyway), Tortuga.  The only thing he regretted was having had to leave Ana Maria over at Chum's Corners, a no-account harbor town on a no-account island.  He had no doubts about her making it on her own; he knew she'd be fine.  He wouldn't want to run into her again after this, however.

                But it had to be done.  Upon leaving Port Royale, nothing had come to the pirate ship but misfortune.  First, a storm came up like you wouldn't believe; the pirates were often unsure as to whether they would make it out alive!  Then, when the storm had passed, the breeze had died completely.  The sails wouldn't even twitch; there wasn't a cloud in the sky, so the sun baked down on the decks.  Four days it went on like that.  Then Jack had had a run-in with Captain Fellis, a rival pirate captain; far below himself, Jack was sure of that.  But still… he had his eye on the Pearl.  _Doesn't everyone?_ Jack thought with a smug smile as he turned the helm to port, bringing the ship in, ready to weigh anchor.

                That Fellis man had tried to make a trade for her!  A trade, for the greatest ship on the ocean?  There is nothing equal in value.  Jack had turned him down flat, perhaps calling him a name or two, and the man had stormed off.  Jack was sure he'd be back.  Fellis would try to take the Pearl, try to take her by any means possible.  But Jack wasn't worried.  Not yet, anyway.

                After the unpleasant meeting with Fellis the crew of the Black Pearl discovered that some manner of insect had infested the entire food supply, rendering it completely inedible.  That was when they had started to speak of the bad luck a woman brought to a ship.  Jack had never given much note to bad luck or superstition, but even he had to admit that this was worse than anything that had happened on this ship before.  Excluding mutiny, of course.

                So to placate his own worries and more importantly, that of his crew, Ana Maria was given a substantial amount of money and left at Chum's Corners.  He feared more than a slap if he ever ran into her again.  However, after she was gone, things started going well for the Black Pearl.  Weather was fair, they recovered their supplies, and they managed to overtake a number of trade ships, gaining supplies and more importantly, making a name for themselves once again, restoring the general public's fear of the infamous Black Pearl.

                So now Jack left the deck of the Pearl as the sun set slowly behind him, swaggering down the dock with that unique gait of his, and he thought he had never felt happier.  He even began to whistle as he made his way to the tavern for a bit of rum.  Yes, things could not be better.

                Things could not be worse.  Today had been the worst day of Lydia's life by far, and she had had a lot of bad days.  She was a barmaid at the Sandy Crab tavern, the owner of which was about the most horrid man she knew, although, she really didn't know very many people.  Those who came in for a drink never paid her mind, other than to take the drink she brought.  And many were too slobbering drunk to care to have any kind of conversation.  So Lydia was alone; no one cared to even know the name of a no-account barmaid, she was of no importance to the rest of the world.

                At her job in the tavern she was paid in food and lodgings, but didn't as often receive the former seeing as her tendency for clumsiness often displeased her boss.  Tripping was one thing that her employer couldn't tolerate, and the one thing that Lydia could do very well.  So Lydia's life was spent performing the same monotonous duties day in and day out, while all the time she wished of something greater, anything other than the drudgery she was currently reduced to.  With a sigh she turned her mind from these familiar longings and back to the mundane job of a tavern waitress.

                Carefully she walked to the bar-counter for the next order of alcohol to be delivered to a table in the smoky tavern.  She vaguely noticed a new fellow enter.  _Walking as if he's already had a bit too much rum, she mused as she picked up the platter of mugs._

                She shook her head and smiled slightly at the thought, and returned to focusing on not stumbling and spilling the tray of rum she was attempting to get to a table of already rowdy sailors; more likely pirates.  She was only about two feet away when she caught her foot on the hem of her dress and lost her footing.  In a tumultuous flurry she went flying, along with the drinks, and crash-landed into the pirates' table.  She heard the glasses shatter as they hit the ground.  Rum splashed everywhere, angry shouts and profanities drowned out the giddy song and laughter of the tavern, and she even felt a few swift kicks from the intoxicated seamen whose table she had upturned.

                During her fall (or rather, flight) she had completely uprooted the table and landed sprawled in a rather awkward position.  She struggled to sit up and begin profusely apologizing to the men, as she always had to when something like this happened.  Still fighting to get up from the mess, she put her hand down on some broken shards of the demolished mugs.  She winced and looked at her palm as beads of blood started oozing out of the wounds.  Giving sitting up another try she angrily wondered why no one ever helped her. 

                Suddenly, a hand was offered.  She looked up incredulously.  It was the man she had watched come into the tavern.  Looking at his eyes she could tell he was not in the least bit tipsy, just… walked funny.  He had long dark hair and a braided goatee, he seemed to have been outdoors a lot, but then again, so had just about every man in Tortuga.  His eyes were a deep brown, dark enough to match her own.  For the moment, she couldn't do much more than gawk unceremoniously at the man.

                "Well, do you want help or don't you, mate?" he asked impatiently.

                She quickly took his hand and he swung her to her feet.  She came up face to face with this man who had actually offered her help.  He seemed surprised as their faces came within inches of each other.   Lydia breathed in sharply and a pleasant sensation filled her nose.  He smelled of the sea. They gazed at each other for what seemed like a very long moment, and Lydia dimly realized they were still holding hands.  Then the thought jolted into her brain: they were holding hands!

                She let go and began muttering apologies for the blood now on his hand.  He just watched her, seeming to study her, almost, a tiny smile flickering across his handsome face as she fumbled through her apron for a cloth napkin, a scrap of fabric, anything!  _Oh, great job, _bleed _on someone nice enough to help you!_ she thought scornfully.  _Is there nothing suitable for a napkin in here?_

                "I'm really very sorry about this," she rambled on, still searching for a cloth.  Her hand stung something awful, making in difficult.  The man had said nothing after he had helped her up, just seemed rather amused by her antics.  She began to become a little annoyed at his entertainment with her embarrassment.  In addition to the fact that she knew she still had to tend to the other customers and clean up her mess, she was sure those mugs would be coming out of her "paycheck".

                Suddenly the man spoke.  

                "Are you done?  Because I'm just going to sit over there then," he said lightly, gesturing vaguely to a table in the corner.  As he turned and walked, rather ungainly, over to his seat he simply wiped the bloody hand on his trousers.  _Well he could've done that _sooner, _Lydia thought agitatedly.  She then began her duty of cleaning up after her own inability to walk._

                Jack sat down heavily at the small table in the corner of the smoke-filled tavern.  He shook his head as he watched the strange girl try and compensate for her little mishap.  Or rather, big mishap.  He smiled slightly as she brought the table to rights with a heave and apologized pathetically to the irate pirates.  They all glared daggers at her as they sat down and she scurried to the bar to get them new drinks.

                Jack's small smile turned into a frown as he saw her being severely reprimanded for her deed by the tavern owner.  He almost felt sorry for her.  Almost.  He was still in an impeccably good mood however, and nothing, for the moment, would spoil it; he would make sure of that.  As another barmaid approached his table he ordered a pint of rum.

                "Make that two," he alleged as an afterthought.

                Lydia had gotten the pirates new drinks and assured them that they would be 'on the house'.  She fetched a broom from behind the counter and proceeded to sweep up the splinters of what used to be mugs.  The pirates now had their rum so they paid her little more mind, as she knew they would; she was of no consequence to them.  As she swept she looked idly over at the seaman who had come to her aid.

                His eyes followed a pretty young lass in a garish dress with extravagant, gaudy make-up plastered on her face.  The man smiled and reclined nonchalantly in his seat, resting his hands casually behind his head.  In spite of how charming that smile of his was, the scene utterly revolted Lydia.  _So, this man is no different from the rest of them, _she thought disappointedly.  _I had rather hoped…  But no, he was a scoundrel just like every other pirate that passed the doors of the Sandy Crab._

                Sighing sorrowfully, she swept with more deliberation.  After this task was complete she returned to the bar for the next order of drinks, shrinking under her boss's menacing glare.  In her mind she kept grumbling to herself, getting crankier by the minute.  The bad day was really starting to get to her.  Up until now she had been able to maintain a level of tolerance, but she was getting rather tired of always being let down.  She continued complaining to herself in her head when she suddenly realized who this order was for.  Then her brain simply stopped.  She stood stupidly in front of the table of the cocky pirate, holding two mugs of rum.  Presumably, she guessed the second was for whichever woman he chose from the mélange of kitschy wenches wandering the tavern.

                "That for me, darling?" he asked smoothly, indicating the two drinks in Lydia's hands.  Agitatedly, she callously plopped the mugs down on the table, hard enough for liquid to slosh over the sides.

                "Whoa, now!  Easy, mate!" the man cried, distraught over losing the rum.  Lydia rolled her eyes as she turned and walked away.  And she thought he would **improve** her day.  Hardly.  Then, once again, he completely surprised her.

                "Wait," he said simply.  Lydia blinked.  That one word made her stop dead and hesitantly turn back around to face the obnoxiously alluring pirate.

                "What?" she asked apprehensively.

                "What's your name?" he asked sincerely, leaning forward toward her across the table.

                The question took her by surprise and she faltered awkwardly before answering.

                "Lydia."

                The pirate nodded and raised his mug of rum to her.

                "And your name, sir?" she asked tersely, fearing he was mocking her in some distant way.  (She had a tendency for paranoia, at times.)  He looked at her over the rim of his mug.  After gulping and setting it down he just looked at her for a moment. 

                "Captain Sparrow," he replied, a smile playing across his face, leaning back comfortably in his chair once again.

                "Enjoy your rum, Captain Sparrow," she replied coldly, even though her heart was pounding, for more reasons than one.  That smile of his really got to her, which made her disdain grow.  But what really had her heart rate increasing was his name.  She had heard that name spoken often in the slurred conversations of tavern customers.  He was indeed a pirate, and a very notable one at that.

                As she walked away towards the bar-counter yet again she began recalling stories of this captain and his ship, of the iniquitous mutiny and the curse of Barbossa, and the regaining of his vessel.  _Now what was she called…_  Lydia racked her brains, temporarily incapable of reaching the name of Captain Sparrow's ship.  _Pearl__!  That's it!  The Black __Pearl__! she recalled the name triumphantly.  Already a plan was forming in her mind, a plan of escape.  There was no way she was going to spend her life amongst drunken blaguards, wasting away her years serving them rum, paying off a debt that wasn't even her own.  Although, perhaps sneaking aboard a ship full of these same blaguards was maybe not the best idea she'd ever had, she was just crazy enough to do it; anything to rid herself of the wearisome toil that had been her life since she came to Tortuga, and the always imminent threat of the return of _him_._

                Jack watched as the odd girl walked away.  She was a curious one.  Offhandedly scrutinizing her as she walked away, he decided she really wasn't too bad to look at, though not the most attractive thing he'd ever seen.  However, there was something about her he just couldn't quite put his finger on…  He shook his head again as he took another swig of rum.  Then a slim figure slipped into the seat beside him with a giggle and his attention was diverted from the peculiar Lydia.


	2. Flight

Hey, thank you to everybody for reviewing!  I feel so appreciated!  *tear tear*  *hugs everyone who reviewed*  Well, here's the next chapter; sorry no Captain Sparrow in this one.  L  Don't worry!  He'll be back!  ^_^

Disclaimer:  Still the same as last time only I forgot to mention my ownership of Captain Fellis.  He plays a bigger part later… a much bigger part!  *laughs evilly*  Ha ha!  I must leave you all in suspense!  Anyway, enjoy this chappie!

Chapter Two: "Flight"

                Lydia was finally ready for her wild getaway.  She really had no idea what she was getting into, and had a bad feeling she was opening up quite a can of worms, but now that her mind was made up, there was no going back.  She really had no belongings to speak of, so, after bandaging her injured hand with a strip of old fabric, all she had had to do to be ready was wait for the boss to drink himself to sleep, an event that happened most every night.

                _What is it about rum, anyway? she thought idly, watching her boss take another long draught of the liquid from behind the slightly cracked service entrance door of the tavern.  She had once had only a small swallow of the stuff and was none too keen to try it again.  She sighed quietly; wishing her boss would just pass out and be done with it.  Never had she been more anxious to have him unconscious._

                To occupy herself during her wait she thought back to the man whose ship she would soon be boarding (hopefully).  He had left with his arm around some outlandish creature, never even giving her a second glance, nor a second thought, she was sure; no one else did.  _Let's hope it stays that way! _she thought.  She knew about the worst thing that could happen while on his ship would be to get caught.  She wasn't too eager to know what pirates did with stowaways.

                Again she checked on the man sitting behind the counter with a jug of rum.  To her relief, the jug was on the ground, his grip on it limp, and his head was hanging back with his mouth wide open.  A disgusting sound was emitting from it, along with odors she didn't wish to experience.  As silently as she could manage she crept from behind the door; slowly, so slowly, she tip-toed her way to the entrance.  She could not take the chance of waking him; the risk was too great.  This was her only chance for emancipation.

                One foot, two feet, three…  Ever so delicately she closed the distance between herself and her portal to sovereignty.  As she was beginning to think she was home free her foot pressed down on a creaky board.  Lydia cringed as the plank let out a horrible groan, her heart nearly leaping into her mouth.  She stopped breathing to listen to any sound of stirring behind her.  Nothing.  She turned her head ever so slightly to take a look over her shoulder.  The great lug hadn't even twitched an eyelid!  She sighed quietly and continued her stealthy journey to the door.

                She was only a short distance from her gateway to liberty now.  She only had a few more feet to go until her independence was sealed when out of nowhere the empty jug came plummeting through the air and crashed against the doorframe, shattering instantly inches from her head.  She froze in terror.  Holding her breath she turned reluctantly.  She could hear him muttering slurred, incoherent sentences.

                He began to get up and Lydia tensed herself to run, but then he simply slumped forward and began to snore.  She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, letting out her breath little by little.  When she finally no longer feared her employer waking up, she turned and swiftly scampered the last wee bit out the door.

                As soon as she had crossed the threshold, she broke into a run.  The docks were not far from the Sandy Crab, but she wanted to put as much distance between herself and that place as she could.  Gradually she slowed, then stopped briefly, taking deep breaths of air.  _You know, the air does smell sweeter when you're free, she thought.   She was within site of the harbor now, and began walking towards the infamous black sails of the most terrifying pirate vessel on the ocean._

                Lydia crept stealthily towards the ominous ship, creaking in the moonlight.  All the crew seemed to be on land.  _Surely the great pirate Sparrow would not leave his precious ship unguarded? _she thought to herself as she peered at it from behind a lamppost.  She was right; she could just make out the figure of a man under a dim, swaying lantern near the bow of the ship.

                _This might be tricky, she contemplated.  She had had no misgivings that the ship would not be there; she knew that the 'pleasurable company' Tortuga had to offer should keep the ship docked until morning.  Another reason she would be so glad to leave this place behind her._

                Then an open porthole caught her attention.  _I f I could just get to that little hole, she reckoned, __I believe that success in my passage out of here would be certain.   Hunching over, blending into the shadows, thankful for the dark green hue of her dress, and the equally dark brown of her hair, she slipped over to the great ship._

                Unfortunately, when she got there she found the porthole to be about twenty feet above her head.

                "Oh, I'll never be able to get up there!" she cried out loud in frustration.  Frantically she looked around her, hoping to find something, anything, of use.  Amazingly, she spotted a lengthy coil of rope piled next to the neighboring ship.  Grabbing it and swiftly returning to the porthole she set about to untangling the mass of line.  Once that was accomplished she came once again to a stand still.  Even if she did get that rope into the little bitty porthole, what exactly would be holding her weight up there as she climbed?

                She needed something pointy, she decided, something that could latch itself onto the inside wall of the ship.  She searched around her again, but this time she was not so lucky as to see anything of use at her direct disposal.  Now she would really have to search.  After quite awhile of fruitless scavenging she sat down dejectedly on the dock next to the unreachable porthole.  She tossed the rope sullenly to the side; she had no use for it anymore.  Then, quite suddenly, a particularly large wave came rolling towards shore, setting the Pearl to violent rolling.

                As her eyes ventured to the ship she saw another porthole about two feet below the dock.  She blinked.  How did she miss that?  Admonishing herself with disgust at her own stupidity she carefully lowered her feet off of the dock and onto the lower rim of the porthole, putting her weight on her toes.  Then the ship tipped hard the other way and her foothold was suddenly gone!  She fell and just barely managed to grasp onto the edge of the dock.

                So there she was, dangling precariously from the wooden planks of the dock while the Black Pearl remained infuriatingly out of reach.   Lydia began to attempt to swing herself towards the ship, hoping her feet would make contact and she would once again endeavor to board the pirate vessel.  

                Many graceless efforts later, she had now switched her position from dangling off of the dock to dangling from the porthole.  _At least I'm getting closer, she thought, slightly bitterly.  Her arms were aching something fierce and she could no longer feel her fingers, so she really could not tell if she were slipping or not.  She saw by the spots on the cloth that her hand had started bleeding again.  Mustering all her resolve she braced herself, and with one great final maneuver she flung herself, panting, into the room on the other side of the porthole._

                It seemed to be where the cannons were kept; she could see the faint outlines of squares cut into the wood of the ship where the cannons could be pushed out of to shoot.  This seemed as good a place as any to hide, Lydia figured, and thanked her lucky stars for that.  She slunk into a tight, concealed crevice in-between a cannon and the ship's wall, and hazily remembered hoping the pirates wouldn't need the cannons any time soon before becoming prey to a profound slumber.


	3. Tempest

Sorry it took so long to update.  I've been overcome with some serious writer's block, so the updates might be a little slow in coming until I get some inspiration.  But I will keep trying!  Vigilance!  Vigilance!  Enjoy the next chappie!  See, for some reason I really love writing descriptions of storms.  In the only other fanfic I wrote, an X-Men: Evolution one, there's a great big storm scene too.  Lots of lightning!  Yay!  *runs away yelling 'wheeeeeeeee!'*

Chapter Three- "Tempest"

                Captain Jack Sparrow looked up at the sky as the sun was suddenly concealed by a large mass of dark cloud.  Almost as soon as the Pearl had set out late that morning, storm clouds had been gathering rapidly.  Jack stood at the helm, gently maneuvering the grand vessel, perfectly in tune to its rhythm on the sea.  He deeply breathed the salty air, thick with humidity and electricity from the imminent squall, and knew that this was where he belonged.  As much as he enjoyed his visits to Tortuga, they could never hold a candle to the euphoria of being a pirate, footloose and carefree, traveling the wide open ocean.  Nothing compared to that.

                Gradually, the ship progressed further and further out to sea, all the while the storm clouds deepening, becoming more menacing.  Then the storm broke.  Thunder began as a slight rumble, but little by little became vast rolling crashes, rattling the helm under his grasp.  There was lightning too, immense forks of lightning whipping across the sky in feral flashes of brilliance, putting the radiance of the sun to shame.  Although it was nearing noontime, it was murky and sinister as midnight.  The air had been disturbingly still, unnerving the crew, but now all of the wind in the world seemed directed right at the ship.

                Jack struggled to hold the helm steady against the colossal currents the ship was up against.  Then, the rain came.  It was like the sky was falling down on the poor, windblown pirates, such was the torrent that descended.  Titanic drops of water pelted the ship's passengers, mercilessly biting their flesh where it landed.  The sound of the roaring wind, lashing waves, and drumming of the raindrops echoed tenfold on the hollow deck drowned out any other sound.

                The waves and the rain blended together, making the world one great gloomy mish-mosh of wetness.  Fighting with the helm, Jack screamed orders to his first mate, who was standing right next to him.

                "Take down the sails!  I can't control her in this wind!" he roared over the vociferous resonance of the treacherous gale.  His mate nodded and motioned to the crew, yelling orders that fell on deaf ears, induced by the fury of the thunderstorm.  The sails were brought down but Jack still had his hands full keeping the Pearl afloat.  An ominous thought kept returning to his mind as he wrestled the helm: _we haven't had a storm like this since…  He wouldn't allow himself to even say the name.  He would not become prey to such nonsense as the superstition of a woman bringing bad luck aboard a sea-faring craft.  Besides, there wasn't even a miss on board._

                Below deck, Lydia was just finishing off being sick for the second time.  The violent rocking and nauseating rolling of the ship had jolted her from her dreamless sleep.  It was black as pitch down below, and the brutal, ever-present reeling of the ship had her head spinning.  She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so ill.  Unsteadily, she wiped her pale brow with a trembling hand.  

                Rapidly, another blast of thunder set the cannons to rattling, and a fresh wave set the Pearl to lurching anew.  Lydia clutched the cannon until her knuckles were white and ducked her head, ready to be sick again at any moment.

                The crew of the Black Pearl skittered frantically every-which-way across deck, battening down every hatch they could find, trying to secure anything of value, attempting to protect everything from the havoc the storm had wreaked, and was still wreaking, upon them.

                Despite the lack of sail up in the rampant wind, the ship was being tossed recklessly; poor Captain Jack was unable to do more than keep her afloat, and at times the crew wasn't sure if he could do even that.  

                Hours passed in this tempestuous frenzy, though to those on the Black Pearl, it seemed like days.  Eventually the storm subsided enough so that Jack could maintain a hold on the helm.  The rain had slackened to a mere drenching downpour; the thunder still rattled the very bones of the pirates, although less often, and the lightning that blazed across the sky was now less bright.  It was still no time to be lazing about, though; the waters were no less disturbed and the going was rough.  In addition, the screeching wind still battered the vessel persistently.

                However, at least now Jack could gather his wits about him and communicate with his crew without yelling himself hoarse.  _I think the worst of it is over, he assured himself._

                Unfortunately, the wretched soul who had been in the crow's nest shouted down that there was an approaching ship to starboard.  Leaving the helm to his mate, Jack ran to his quarters to retrieve his spyglass.  He hurried back out to the deck with it and squinted through the rain off the starboard side.  It was true; there was a ship.  And most certainly one he was not at all pleased to see.

                "It's Fellis," he informed his mate with contempt, taking the helm once again.  "We can't outrun him; that would just lead us back into the storm, and the wind's still too strong to get the sails up just yet.  We'll have to stand and fight him."

                Jack shouted orders to his crew to ready the cannons and prepare to open fire.  He began maneuvering the ship to be able to fire on his enemy.  At least what hope Fellis had in surprise was gone.  No one would be taking his Pearl any time soon, he was certain of that.  He set to steering with grim determination as the rest of his men went below to the cannons.

                The fury of the storm had lessened somewhat, decreasing the unruly pitching of the ship, and Lydia was feeling somewhat less queasy.  She stood precariously to walk towards the porthole she had descended through only a few hours before.  If she didn't get some fresh air, she was certain to be sick again, though she couldn't imagine there being anything more to come back up.

                As she peered out the tiny window she could faintly decipher the outline of a ship.  She wondered if this was a friend or foe of the Pearl.  Unfortunately, she was abruptly conveyed from her contemplation as she heard loud, harried footsteps descending from a staircase nearby.  She hastily threw herself back into her hiding place by the cannon.  


	4. Stowaway

Hey, finally got the next chapter to upload!  Special thanks to AgentStarbuck for the notebook idea; it worked!  Here's a muffin!  *hands AgentStarbuck a muffin*

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY!!!  Yay!  Happy birthday me!  Um, yeah, well, just wanted to let you know, so… back to the story!!  ^_^  Enjoy!

Chapter Four- "Stowaway"

                Captain Fellis's ship, the White Lightning, was steadily getting closer, despite both ships' lack of sail.  Rain still came down at a steady rate as Jack maneuvered the Pearl to have her cannons facing the approaching ship.  His brow furrowed as he saw two of his crew emerging from down below.

                "What're you doing back up here?" he cried agitatedly.  "Get-"

                Then he noticed what was between them.

                They brought her before him and thrust her to her knees, though she hadn't really had to strength to be very far off them during the whole ascent.  She seemed to be a sickly pale and very shaken-looking.  Her hair was askew and her dress soiled with he-wasn't-sure-he-wanted-to-know-what.  And now she was being soaked in the rain, making her about the most wretched creature he had ever seen.  After looking at her in surprise he raised an eyebrow at his men.

                "This be what's brought on our misfortunes," one man said.

                "Must've come on at Tortuga somehow," the other alleged angrily.  "And she made an awful mess down by the cannons!"  

                "What shall we do with 'er, Cap'n?" the first asked menacingly.

                Jack looked closely at the girl who had the gall to stowaway on his ship.  Her dark brown eyes looked pleadingly up at him.  She looked familiar somehow, those eyes…  Then it clicked.  It was that very anomalous girl from the tavern!  Now what was her name?  For a moment or two it just wouldn't come to him; it was on the tip of his tongue.  _Lela, Laura, Lindsey… __Lydia__!  That's it, _Lydia___! he recalled with triumph.  _

                He looked down at her sternly, rather proud of the obvious impression he was making.  However, he still wasn't exactly sure what to do with her, nor did he have any time just then to figure it out.

                "Just… just take her to my cabin," he told his men, vaguely gesturing toward the general area of his quarters.  She could just wait there until he had Fellis turn-tail and retreating, then he could have time to decide what to do.

                He saw her brow furrow at his command, not sure if it was bad or good, then his men took her roughly off to his room aboard the ship.  Unfortunately, Fellis's ship had gotten drastically closer during this little 'conversation' and Jack had to shout the command to fire almost immediately, thrusting the ship into battle.

            The pirates dragged Lydia, who was too tired to do more than barely move her feet, to a room she assumed was Captain Sparrow's.  They then tossed her roughly inside and closed the door.  She fell to her knees almost immediately, then just sat there a moment.  She wasn't quite sure what to think right now.  Captain Sparrow hadn't done anything to punish her for stowing away… yet.

                Out of nowhere, the ship gave a violent shudder, accompanied by an ear-splitting _BOOM!  Lydia was flung backwards against the door by the jolt, her head knocking loudly against the wood.  She grimaced and rubbed her sore skull tenderly, inwardly cursing herself for ever deciding to run off and hide in a pirate ship.  __But I had __to! She thought, __I just couldn't stay there any longer.  And besides that, what if he _came back?  _The cannons continued firing, increasing the new piercing pain in her head, distracting her from her ominous thoughts._

                Then another shudder-crash came, but this time it was different.  A cannon of the opposing ship had struck home on the ship's starboard side, creating a colossal din of splintering wood!  _Obviously this other ship is a foe, Lydia thought wryly as she crawled across the wooden planks.  The ship continued to rock violently, and this was now accompanied by the ever-present racket of cannon-fire.  _

                Being battered about brutally, she finally made her way to the opposite side of the small room, where there was a window.  She could see the opposing ship, almost even with the Pearl, the captain's room fortunately located on the starboard side of the ship.  Now she could hear shouts over the din of cannons, but couldn't make out any coherent words.  Then a fresh wave of cannon blasts from the other ship came, knocking Lydia from her kneeling position, peering out the window.

                Now the Pearl's guns started firing anew.  Lydia sat down in the corner of the room under the window, drawing her knees up to her chin.  This was the best place and position she could find that kept her from being flung about the cabin.  There she sat, her head throbbing, wishing that she was more courageous, that she hadn't gotten caught, that she wasn't sick, and that that blasted racket would stop, all at once, even though she knew that all this wishing was hopeless.

                _At least I'm not throwing up anymore, she thought slightly sardonically._


	5. Retreat

I'm ba-ack!  Well, here is the next installment in my oh-so-exciting Jack Sparrow story!  *coughcough*  Ahem, yes.  Same as usual: review and enjoy!  ^_^

Chapter Five-"Retreat"

                Jack stood on deck clutching the helm, bracing himself against the shudders running through the ship.  He winced every time a cannonball struck his beloved vessel and cursed Captain Fellis.  

                "Sparrow!"

                He heard his name called above the ruckus of the fight, and squinted over to the White Lightning.  The voice hailing him was none other than the scallywag himself.

                Fellis was a rather imposing man; Jack had to give him that.  He stood now by the railing of his ship, his shoulder length jet black hair blown back by the wind, soaked by the rain.  The feather in his hat had seen better days, hat-feathers not being very good for rainy weather.  However it still reminded Jack of Will somehow.

                "Back again, Fellis?" Jack called lightly.  "I'm not giving her up!"

                "I guessed as much Sparrow," Fellis yelled back, speaking as if Jack were a halfwit.  "So we've come back to take her by force."

                As soon as he said this another volley of cannonfire was shot at the Pearl, several making their mark.  A crewman ran breathlessly towards Jack on deck.

                "She can't take too much more o' this, Cap'n!  And we're runnin' out o' ammunition!"

                This was news Jack was not at all happy to hear.  Well, since fighting seemed out of the question, his mind raced to find another solution.  A few moments of tense silence from Jack went by, the sound of cannons whistling and crashing still reaching their ears.  Jack glared fervidly at Fellis, smiling smugly on his ship.

                "Cap'n?  What should we do?" the crewman pressed.  Jack looked at the floorboards of the ship, groping for a solution.  Then he looked up with a small smile on his face.

                "Run out the sweeps."

                Oh how he loved to say that phrase!  The speed of his ship prided him endlessly, and now the only option was to outrun Fellis.  The White Lightning may be the Pearl's match in firearms, but it could never hold a candle to the swiftness of the Black Pearl.

                The crewman nodded and ran down the deck to tell those below of the new order.

                "You want her?" Jack called smoothly over to Fellis.  "Come and get her!"

                The smile fell from Fellis's face as the sweeps emerged from the sides of the ship, like a bird unfolding its wings, and the ship soared away from the White Lightning, leaving a cursing Captain Fellis behind.

                Lydia felt the ship lurch forward suddenly from her fetal position in the corner and peered curiously out of the window.  She couldn't help but feel a thrill at the sight she saw.

                This was what the Black Pearl was renowned for, and she was on it right now!

                _Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to leave the tavern, she thought._

                Quietly she watched as the opposing ship sunk slowly into the distance, catching a glimpse of a rather angry man with black hair.  Rather striking, she had to admit.

                And the great vessel continued on, riding on the edge of the storm and propelled by the sweeps.  Though the speed was dizzying, Lydia still felt it was somewhat soothing, and was even beginning to relax slightly when she heard the sound of footsteps, and then the door opened with a soft creak. Her eyes widened and she held her breath as the captain entered.

Heh heh, just had to mention, at the part where Lydia thinks Captian Fellis is 'rather striking', she thinks he's hot!  Wahahahahahahaha!  Yes, even though Fellis is the obvious antagonist, he is still one fine-lookin' man.  I always think its more fun to make the 'bad guys' hot.  Like Captain Hook.  The one in the live-action Peter Pan movie this winter is soooooo hot!  I love Jason Isaacs!!!  

Okay, I'm done now, sorry 'bout that; just couldn't help myself!  ^_^;;  Well, see ya on the flip side!


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